


Bittersweet

by Momjeans



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Intimacy, Porn with a teensy bit of plot, SO, Shameless Smut, Smut, i just rly needed this to exist, max gets fingered for the first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5202428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momjeans/pseuds/Momjeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>oh.</p><p>Max melts. </p><p>Shaky breaths are sucked in each time her teeth surprise him, never knew that skin was that tender. He cant think, he’s washed up by her. </p><p>“I… want you.. to feel.. good” he breathes out, eager.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bittersweet

It’s bittersweet. 

It’s bittersweet when two people move together like that. Like a frankenstein creation of an engine, unlikely parts melding together that form something excellent.

They bring each other meals like they know when the other one is hungry. They drive together, plant seeds, rebuild engines. She holds his head at night sometimes and he scrubs her shoulders of dirt. 

Drunken nights turn bad with nightmares, other times are pleasant when he tucks her in with the sisters. He tries to leave but one will tug at his pant leg, and he crawls in.  
There are days where she smiles big and rubs her hand across her head, and she laughs sometimes and he loves it.

Nights back to back, sleeping soundly, or maybe not. 

There's an awkward stiffness in the morning that he tries to shift away from, and she pretends not to notice.

And so their breaths mingle too often. Her jaw drops and she moans sometimes when he’s unknotting her shoulder, and he tries his hardest to find that spot again with his thumb but it doesn't happen. 

One night, Max shifts away from her hips (again), embarrassed.  
“Mm.. sorry” He breaks silence.  
Her eyes flicker up to him and he blushes a hot red. Furiosa keeps her stare and touches her forehead to his. They hold a perfect capsule of heat between them under blankets, and everything about this moment is flawless, but obstructed by the careful inches of space between their bodies and the uncertainty, almost lack of intimate experience between their minds. 

“Do you want me again?” she asks.

The question is awkward. Words aren't placed right, but it’s like that. 

Again.

Max remembers that night. Humid in their room, and she was covered in a day’s dirt and grime, and had been tapping her heel more often, and toying with her arm when she didn't need to. So out of stress relief, and a little bit of lust, his head was buried between her thighs. She grabbed at his hair and writhed in frustration, like she was trying to let go of something. Then she tensed up, and her teeth broke the skin on her dry lips, and oh did she try her best to keep quiet. He thought she might tear his hair out, but he still drank her in. After her core halted the small convulsions leftover after an orgasm, she lifted his face to hers, and kissed him wetly, clinking teeth, for the first time. 

Then they never talked about it. 

But they were here now, and the question lingered. 

He wants her. He really does. He won't, can't, say it outloud. It's like his voice has broke. 

Still, he wants her, and he wants her to feel good. 

She looks at him, it's too much of a gap of silence for things to be okay, and now she feels uneasy. Max looks back at her, still red in the face. He cracks. 

“..yeah” he breathes desperately. 

She bites her bottom lip and looks at his, making a split second “fuck it, stop thinking so much” decision. She presses her lips around his mouth, leaving small wet spots trailing from his mouth down to his jaw, feeling the prickle of stubble against her tongue and the salt of sweat. His skin is so warm and welcoming, she just has to press her nose into his neck and take more of him in. 

oh

Max melts. 

Shaky breathes are sucked in each time her teeth surprise him, never knew that skin was that tender. He cant think, he’s washed up by her. 

“I… want you.. to feel.. good” he breathes out, eager and a little shaky. 

Her lips are still wet against his neck and she says “I want you to feel good” into his hot skin. 

Her hand cups his jaw, feeling how it drops when he hitches breath, or stops himself from audibly moaning. Max takes it as an opportunity, grabbing her thumb between his teeth gently, and then sucking. His tongue is a smooth silk velvet on her thumb, and it surprises her just as much him. She stops kissing to look at his face while he’s doing this. His eyes are closed and his full lips part a bit to catch her index finger, absently creeping closer to his mouth. Then he sucks hard and looks up at her, with beautiful, hooded eyes. With that, she melts too, and the sensation goes straight in between her legs. 

She stops grinding her hips against his, frustrating fabric and buckles catching on the others, and slides her finger out of his mouth. He presses tiny kisses on to her fingertips, lips a little swollen and pink. She fumbles at unbuckling his trousers and eventually he helps her. With some effort his bottom half is exposed, just then she realizes, that maybe, maybe she’s a bit hungry for him. She runs her hand over his thighs and sucks a little on his collarbone leaving a dark purple mark (Valkyrie taught her that). She reaches in between his thighs, and he is warm, almost soft. She moves downward, kissing over his knees, scar tissue, bruises and all. He’s shuddering. He doesn't know what’s going to happen, and it’s so much right now, but he loves it, and lets it happen. She takes out a tin of salve from underneath her bed, something the war boys called “slick”. The salve melts, turning oily over the heat of her fingers. She creeps her fingers in between his thighs again, and he looks down to her, letting out another shaky breath. 

This is what she knows. What warboys told her about over a mess hall table, with giddy faces like they were telling secrets. It’s all she’s known of anything “intimate” in the past 7000 days. 

She looks up at his eyes, making sure he’s stable, where he wants to be. Max has never had this happen before, but he trusts her and he just wants. 

He moves his hips towards her as if he’s offering himself up, and she closes her eyes to kiss his thigh, pressing her lips into sinking hot skin. She presses one finger into him, and kisses heavy scar tissue around his knee. His breaths still shake a bit so she takes it easy, letting him warm up to it. He’s hot around her finger tip and she can feel him relaxing, just a little, with every wet circular stroke she eases him into. She looks up at him again, but this time he isn't looking at her. His head is tilted back, brows stitched and mouth agape. Furiosa can tell he’s trying his best to be quiet, so she presses in, just a bit more, and he takes her, absently grinding his hips against her hand. She smiles a little bit and bends over him, kissing his soft hips, skin bunching up in small beautiful rolls. 

He’s opening up a bit more and she presses a second finger in, wet with slick. His back arches and he hums in pleasure, he feels full. He grabs fistfulls of blankets and his own hair, moaning through his teeth before rocking onto her, sliding himself over her fingers. the corners of her mouth prick up again and she's in love with how he is right now, how he looks by a dim electric light, beads of sweat forming on his temples and breath hot through his nose, constantly biting and licking at his lips. She rests her head against his leg and keeps gently working her fingers, making note of every twitch of response in his body, every arch and twist of his core. Then, when she thinks she’s found it, she curls her fingers towards her. 

With that he ignites. His muscles tense and relax, all at once, he melts and he convulses and it’s so, so much. 

He makes a cracked “Ahh..”, just a little too loud and moans deep, almost whining a little. “F..furi-” his lips trip and stumble over words. Furiosa knows exactly what she’s doing, and keeps curling her fingers inside of him. Max feels wild. Feral. But he also feels her, and he’s here right now and this is Furiosa. She sucks on his thighs, leaving more marks that he’ll find later. He wants more of her, so he bites his lip to stop from panting, and rocks against her fingers again. 

His cock is swollen and heavy, leaking a fragile bead of precome, and he’s struggling to keep hold of himself. He hasn't touched himself this entire time, and he hasn't wanted too because he’s been on edge ever since she bit under his jaw. But she locks eyes with him for a split perfect second, and then grazes her teeth on his inner thighs, lined with small, jagged marks, and her fingers just curl and slide, so he lets himself go, his hips bucking upwards and his breath hitching. 

He spends himself over his shirt, and Furiosa kisses where she's left a mark on his hips before she wipes her slick, still warm fingers on a rag. Max is breathless, and swallows hard, struggling to keep his eyes open. His body is near non-functional and his eyes lazily look over to her, as if to ask for help, but he also feels lust, and looks at her with a bit of adoration. Licking her lips she tries not to smile when she helps him out of his soiled shirt, which she throws to slump on the ground. 

She kicks off her trousers and lets her bare legs intertwine with his. Pulling a heavy blanket over both of them, Max curls into her chest leaving small kisses along her skin. She rests her chin on the top of his head and intertwines her fingers through his poorly cropped hair. He hums and almost immediately falls asleep, when she presses her mouth against his head and whispers something that sounds like his name, like it’s something to hold onto.


End file.
